A Hero's Lament
by Yuugenn
Summary: Link has finally ended Ganon's reign of malice and has become a hero, yet he still can't point the direction of his own path. He spends a few days at his home in Hateno and glimpses lost memories of his childhood, yet by the end of his stay is only left with a question: can he ever live such a simple life again after all he's been through? (A brief one shot)


Staring up at the planks of wood lining the ceiling, Link's eyes trailed the rows and swirls of the wood grain. All he could think about since arriving at his home in Hateno were the memories that had returned to him, as well as those he couldn't remember yet. There had been a few times in the past week when he had been walking down to the village, training, and doing other insignificant things, and he caught almost lifelike glimpses of his father. Unable to think of any other explanation, he assumed that he was remembering small, distant memories of time he spent with him.

Though they all had been brief and merely fragmented memories, he held every one of them close to his heart. Each time he saw one, it was like he was slowly being introduced to a simple and beautiful alternate life that once belonged to him, piece by piece. Ever since he'd woken up in the Shrine of Resurrection, he began craving such a life more and more as each day passed. It both amazed and saddened him that he had already experienced that life before, but the memory of it and that life itself had abandoned him.

He didn't spend much time in leisure, but just this once, he allowed himself to lie on his bed and do something as pointless as stare at the ceiling. Trying to picture what the life of a child would be like, he imagined he probably did similar things to this a very long time ago. Somehow, the thought was comforting to him.

However much he wanted to lay still and entertain the thought of being lazy, though, he started feeling restless after only being on the bed for a few minutes. It seemed he couldn't have the luxury of enjoying time to himself after all.

Giving up on his staring contest with the ceiling, he sat up with the intention to go downstairs and make some curry to appease his growling stomach. But as his mind continued to wander, an emptiness in his stomach replaced his hunger. Remembering so few things and yearning to remember it all was suffocating. Even more than wanting to remember being a child, he wanted to remember the faces of the ones he loved, if he ever had friends, the people he used to know. He would give up knowing everything he knew about himself now just to remember them, to remember things like past love and friendships.

Nearly all the emotions that thrived in his being now mostly boiled down to those any lone knight would feel; fear, anger, hunger, and loneliness among other things were what he felt the most frequently. Of course, he was grateful to be feeling anything at all, since he should have died a hundred years ago, but he couldn't help but want more than what he was left with. If he could just remember, things would be different...

At long last he realized that his sulking was doing him no good. He knew he had no reason to be thinking such things, since everything in his life had led to the destruction of Ganon, something that would benefit lives for ages. He stopped the world from falling into chaos, and he reminded himself once again that that was all that mattered. Personal dreams and desires paled in comparison to his feats as well as his duty.

After defeating Ganon, Princess Zelda nearly ordered him to return home for a few days, though it confused him why she was so adamant about it. Though he was given time to rest, he couldn't forget his duty, especially to such personal and trivial thoughts.

Shaking his head and pressing his palms to his face, he shook himself out of his thoughts and stood up. It was decided; despite the princess wanting him to take time for himself, he would return to her side tomorrow before he could let himself wallow any longer. She needed someone strong with her, not an emotional amnesiac.

Looking out at the darkness through the window above his bed, he realized how late it had gotten and decided against staying up to make dinner; the earlier he could leave in the morning, the better.

With unwanted thoughts still lingering in his subconscious, he began pulling off his shoes along with his other gear and accessories. Fumbling with his amber earrings, he walked over to the new dresser Bolson had finished making for him the other day. With the help of its mirror, he finally managed to remove the bent earring, which he'd landed on after being knocked off his horse the other day when he'd left it in his pocket. It seemed everything he owned wore out or broke _incredibly. Easy._

Before getting into bed, he started pulling off his clothes, but quickly made the mistake of turning to the mirror just after taking off his shirt. They were faint, but the scars riddling his skin stared back at him. Despite telling Bolson that he didn't want any mirrors installed in his home, he had done it anyway. He tried excusing his actions with something along the lines of not wanting to let Link get away with "avoiding that pretty face."

Whenever he saw those scars, though they could hardly be seen after a hundred years, they brought back the only memories he wished he could forget. He could still smell that smoke, the ash in the air, and the scent of his own skin burning like he was still there, throwing himself in front of Guardian after Guardian to protect Zelda. Knowing he was her only shield, that feeling of being so close to death burned itself into his mind.

More than anything, his scars reminded him that he had failedto protect her all those years ago. Zelda was left to save _him_ and fought utterly alone for a hundred years. He had been useless to her.

Quickly turning away from the mirror, he turned out the lights and crawled into his bed, yanking the blanket over his face. Though he tried to hold in his weakness as much as he possibly could, tears stung his eyes as he gave in. There were so manythings he wished he could remember, but his memory was cruel and chose to bombard him with things he wished he had never remembered.

He never showed it, but his heart ached tirelessly. He was always holding in his pain, his regrets, his overwhelming feelings of inadequacy. He admitted it, that even more than wishing to remember moments with his family, he just wanted to forget it all.

Before finally falling asleep on his tear-stained pillow, a brief but sorrowful thought crossed his mind. If nothing else, this night was enough to prove to himself that not even after becoming a "hero" could he achieve something so desirable as a simple, fulfilling life.


End file.
